“Brad’s here!” she shrieked in a whisper. “His car just pulled up.”
“Okay, so…” He rubbed his eyes, desperate to understand the situation, but the sleep still clouding his brain refused to let logic in.
“You have to get out of here.” Taryn tore the sheets off him and dragged him from the bed. “He’ll be walking through the door any second.”
“How am I supposed to get out? The only exit aside from the front door is off the balcony.” He held up a finger. “And before you ask, no, I’m not jumping.”
The front door opened, and Taryn let out another shriek. “No time!” Before Jay could protest, Taryn ushered him into the wide, two-door closet, kicked his sneakers in after him and shut the door.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the onslaught of a headache. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” What a fucking sitcom. He listened to Taryn scamper from the room and down the hall to presumably meet Brad, and he cursed his luck, which had become part of his normal routine. Jay jammed his feet into his sneakers, stepping on the pointy heel of a woman’s shoe in the process, but silenced his hiss of pain as he heard someone enter the room, kissing and groping another someone.
“I missed you so much, Brad,” Taryn said between kisses as if she hadn’t slept next to Jay all night, even though there had been a healthy stretch of mattress between them.
“I’m so sorry I left,” replied Brad, or so Jay gathered from the crack between the closet doors. Brad cupped Taryn’s face. “It’ll never happen again. I promise.”
She smiled like an angel with a devil’s intentions. “Make it up to me?”
In one fluid, continuous move, Brad had Taryn on her back, her pajama pants off, and his head between her legs, and Taryn erupted into a series of high-pitched moans.
Jay sat back in the closet atop a haphazard pile of dirty laundry and dropped his head against the wall. He’d officially reached a new all-time low. Whoever thought he’d come to this point? On the day he met Kimber, never did his sixteen-year-old self imagine him in this predicament.
As always, he wondered what she was up to. Taryn’s wails of pleasure brought to mind a nasty assumption. Was Dane still at Kimber’s? Were they lying in bed, giggling and having a conversation that only made sense to them as they delayed the inevitable rising to greet the day? Were they sleeping, limbs entangled, or was he between her legs and thrusting inside her like he had last night?
Jay’s stomach turned over and tears stung his eyes. The whole situation had spun so out of control he couldn’t think himself to any conclusion. Maybe there was none. Maybe this was it.
Through the crack, Jay could see Taryn lost in bliss, holding Brad’s head close to her pussy as she gyrated against his face. The sight reminded him of how Kimber had looked when he’d gone down on her, a memory that did nothing to abate morning wood. He couldn’t believe it was an actual memory; it had been so surreal he felt like he’d dreamed it, yet he could recall every aspect in its entirety, from her breathy moans and “oh Gods” to how her inner thighs had brushed his face to her smile to how silky wet she was, and the rosy blush on her face as she neared climax…
He already had his cock out and in his hand before he made the decision to do so. He stroked in time to Taryn’s cries, which built in frequency and pitch until she tugged Brad upward and turned over with her ass in the air. Brad unzipped his pants and slammed into her with the force of a man possessed by the call of his primitive side.
Jay watched the couple screw and scream their way to a sexual release, half-registering what was happening and half-picturing himself doing the same to Kimber. He imagined taking her from behind and burying his cock inside her to the hilt, her ass bouncing with every thrust and her moaning his name.
Soon his hand and cock went slick with his cum, and his arousal ebbed to an overwhelming depression. It was quite possibly the most pathetic, loneliest thing in the world to jerk off to someone who hated you. The empty cavern in his chest widened as he grabbed one of the socks from the laundry and wiped himself clean while Taryn and Brad collapsed in a sweaty heap atop the bed, still moaning and mewling. He’d been mistaken-
Brad and Taryn exchanged more hushed laughs, whispers and kisses until finally Brad left the room and Jay heard the shower running. Taryn then sprung from the bed, wrapped herself in a sheet, and flung open the closet door. “I’m so sorry.” She blushed, although what was left to be modest about? “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I know the feeling.” Jay got to his feet, his legs cramped and aching.
“You go outside. I’ll meet you on the steps.”
“Fine.” He wondered what she could possibly say to him as he left the apartment undetected by Brad, who was singing “Kryptonite” in the shower when he walked past the bathroom. He sat on the concrete front steps of the building, praying to whatever deity on duty that may have been listening that he didn’t run into Dane or Kimber or worse, both of them together.
Taryn, to her credit, didn’t leave him waiting long, and he stood as she emerged wearing a bathrobe and slippers shaped like smiling clouds. She gave him a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you properly. Not that anything that’s happened has been proper.”
“That’s for damn sure.” He kicked a stray rock that had somehow made its way onto the sidewalk.
“But when has anything been proper, really?” Taryn shrugged. “I can’t think of a single time in my life when something’s gone by the book or been normal. Nothing’s ever been easy.” She smiled at him and gave his shoulder a light punch. “What I’m trying to say is that people are surprising, and that’s something to be happy about.”
Jay heaved a sigh, emptying his lungs. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”
“Exactly.” Taryn held his face in her hands, obliging him to look at her. “And that, my friend, is a beautiful thing.”
Kimber awoke the next morning alone although the TV blasted in the next room. She padded into the living room to see Dane on the couch, eating from a can of ravioli beneath a poorly executed afghan she’d once made when she was going through her knitting phase. His eyes were on the TV but he looked up and smiled when Kimber entered. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the can aside, then stretched his arms toward her. “Bables.”
“What’re you doing out here?” She collapsed on the couch beside him, avoiding his reach.
“Just hanging out. I couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“Just things.” He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels, pausing on Animal Planet. A poodle in a tutu was jumping through a ring of fire. “Cool.”
She plucked the remote from his hand and turned off the TV.
He looked to her with a contrite grin and rubbed her knee. “I was thinking about how stupid I was, falling asleep on you last night before anything could happen. Damn, I definitely wanted to see that through. You were never like that before. I’m a lucky guy.”
Kimber narrowed her eyes. “Why are you lucky?”
“Because. I get to call the sexiest chick in this dump of a town my girlfriend.”
She crossed her arms. “We’re not together, Dane.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. You and I-we don’t work. We don’t make sense.”
“But…” His satisfied expression became one of bewilderment. “But I want you in my life.”
“What about what I want?”
“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Not anymore. We have too many problems. It’s like a giant onion of problems, with all sorts of layers, and we just can’t get to the core of anything. They’ll never be fixed.”
“Everyone has problems, bables. We’ll fix ours.”
“Stop calling me that.” She rose from the couch and paced the length of the room. “And we won’t fix them. We can’t. If we could, why didn’t we fix them before?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, looking lost. “I guess I was just being a stubborn jerk.”
“But now you think things could be better.”
